I've known him for 8 years and do this day i still dont know why they call him Whirly!!
I think it will take a bit of peer group pressure from the forum for him to divulge.
Now he has blended in with the other banana benders and can hide, surely we will get to learn the legend behind the name? Maybe they will write poems about him like Banjo Paterson did with the Man from Snowy River?
There was movement at the boat ramp, for the word had passed around
That the big fella from Old Northern Territory had got away,
And had joined the wild barra horses --- he was worth a his weight in gold,
So all the cracks had gathered to the fray.
All the tried and noted Fisho's from the Pubs near and far
Had mustered at the Woolianna homestead overnight,
For the Fisho's love hard fishing where the wild barra horses are,
And the Suzuki outboard snuffs the battle with delight.
There was old Dodgyone, who made his pile when he won the Kakadu Klash,
The old man with his Loomis as rigged with 80pound braid;
But few could fish beside him when his blood was fairly up ---
He would go wherever bush pigs and man could go.
And Clancy of the Overflow came down to lend a hand,
No better fisho ever fished in the rain;
For never bush pig could throw him while the rod belt-girths would stand,
He learnt to fish while drunk with Flynn one night.
And one was there, a stripling on a small and weedy bloke called Jordan Doevy,
He was something like a racehorse undersized,
With a touch of Timor pony --- three parts thoroughbred at least --
And such as are by wild drunken Fisho's prized.
He was hard and tough and wiry --- just the sort that won't say die ---
There was courage in his quick impatient tread;
And he bore the badge of gameness in his bright and fiery eye,
And the proud and lofty carriage of his head.
But still so slight and weedy, one would doubt his power to stay,
And the old man said, "90 horse power will never do
For a long and tiring boat ride --- lad, you'd better stop away,
Those riverss are far too rough for such as you".
So he waited sad and wistful --- only Clancy stood his friend --
"I think we ought to let him come," he said;
"I warrant he'll be with us when he's wanted at the end,
For both his 5.0 GS Extreme and he are Darwin bred".
"He hails from South Alligator River, up by Kakadu's side,
Where the mud bars are aplenty and the fish twice as big,
Where a horse's boofs strike firelight from the lures every cast,
The man that holds his own is good enough.
And the Daly River riders on the suburbs of Palmy make their home,
Where the river runs those giant rockbars abound;
I have seen full many Fisho's since I first commenced to roam,
But nowhere yet such Fisho's have I seen".
So he went --- they found the barra by the big snag clump ---
They raced away towards the rivers brow,
And the old man gave his orders, "Boys, go at them from the jump,
No use to try for fancy fishing now.
And, Clancy, you must lure them, try and cast at them to the right.
Fish boldly, lad, and never fear the spills,
For never yet was Fisho that could keep the mob in sight,
If once they gain the shelter of those snags."
So Clancy rode to lure them --- he was racing on the wing
Where the best and boldest Fisho's take their place,
And he raced his AquaRat past them, and he made the engine scream,
With the throttle, as he met them face to face.
Then they halted for a moment, while he swung the dreaded net,
But they saw their well-loved river full in view,
And they charged beneath the throttle with a sharp and sudden dash,
And off into the sunken snags they flew.
end part 1